This is Dude. He’s a very chubby boy who loves to cuddle. He’s the biggest cat we have, but he has the smallest meow. (The other cat pictured is Pooh- she likes to scream and get on top of the fridge for attention).
The kodkod is the smallest cat in the Americas. It lives primarily in central and southern Chile and marginally in adjoining areas of Argentina. Since 2002, it has been listed as Vulnerable on the IUCN Red List
as the total effective population may comprise less than 10,000 mature
individuals, and is threatened due to persecution and loss of habitat
and prey base. The kodkod has a small head, large feet, and a thick tail. Typical adult length is 37 to 51 cm. Kodkods are equally active during the day as during the night,
although they only venture into open terrain under the cover of
darkness. During the day, they rest in dense vegetation in ravines,
along streams with heavy cover, and in piles of dead gorse. They are excellent climbers, and easily able to climb trees more than a meter in diameter. They are terrestrial predators of birds, lizards and rodents in the ravines and forested areas, feeding on southern lapwing, austral thrush, chucao tapaculo, huet-huet, domestic geese and chicken
Aria, German Shepherd (4 m/o), Hayfields Market, North Salem, NY • “She never sits on the couch except for when we’re not home. I come home and she’s always there. She thinks she’s head of the household when we’re gone. She lives with two Scotties, a bulldog, a Jack Russell Terrier, and three cats. The smallest Scottish Terrier runs the household.”
Imagine showing Tom a kitten you desperately want to adopt. Someone put up a flyer in your building trying to find homes for a new litter of kittens. You knew which one you wanted from the moment you saw her. She was the smallest cat of the litter, black all over except for small tufts of gold fur on her ears - she looked just like a tiny Loki. As soon as you mentioned this to Tom, he agreed to taking her in. He can never say no to the woman he loves.
Fanon Link: I’m the reincarnation of the hero. I’m doomed to forever fight Demise. My life is an endless cycle of suffering.
Canon Link: I’m the legendary Hero? BADASS! So long, guys! I’m gonna go take down Cia myself! *gets surrounded by Shadow Links* … my excitement and overconfidence was my undoing.
Fanon OoT Link: I am eternally bitter at the fact that I was never considered a hero. Also my lover died, my kingdom abandoned me, I died in the lost woods, my cat exploded, Epona ate my flesh and I cry myself to sleep every night from my Skeleton Eyes.
Canon OoT Link: I am eternally bitter… heh, but actually, I’m kind of having fun now… I legitimately enjoy training this youngster who may or may not be my son! Alright, now that I’ve taught you how to stab a fucker, I’m going off to the Afterlife happily now. I am so proud of you.
Fanon TP Link: Brooding sexily is my favorite thing to do. Being an ass to Ilia, who is AWFUL and in NO WAY MY FRIEND, is my second favorite thing to do. I’m in love with the Twilight Princess and Zelda, but I can never have either because I look too sexy frowning. Sympathize with my many faults, my many and sexy faults…
Canon TP Link: I found fifty rupees in a chest? Cool! But no time to express my happiness because I have to go travel across the kingdom to save my BEST FRIEND and perhaps LOVER Ilia. After that I’ll defeat Ganon with mainly the fishing rod my FRIEND AND POSSIBLE GOD-SON MADE FOR ME BECAUSE I’M LOVED BY DOZENS OF PEOPLE. Maybe once this adventure is over I’ll do some travelling with Epona, a horse that I love and can literally speak to. Did I mention I like smiling at the smallest things and petting cats?
(No, seriously, you can actually defeat Ganon using a fishing rod strategy which is both hilarious and adorable)
in case no one figured it out. I like to draw space. Seri is the definition of cute.
Cute paws, cute back feet, cute little mouth, cute little curls, cute stars, 11/10 too cute for me.
Since he tends to pack himself smaller than is good for him, his energy permanently curls. Like when you unwrap wire, they always twist back up. Seri may look soft and fluffy, but he is dense. Most starfolk float because they are barely effected by gravity and will settle like smoke. Seri can, but he has to consciously go weightless. Otherwise he whomps to the ground like 40 pounds of blankets. If he’s sleeping in this form, you cannot move him. Fortunately, (or unfortunately) he tends to wrap around objects when he sleeps and you can move those no problem. Shimazaki’s favorite prank was to grab the umbrella when seri was asleep, and place him in front of doors.
Reigen eventually breaks Seri’s habit of nervous tail chewing, and he rapidly grows to his proper size. Which is very good, because seri being that small is not healthy for him or anyone around him.
I know i am a little late to the party, @pangur-and-grim but can you have too many pussys? Never! The first is my smallest cat in his cardboard cat tree. His name is Pepep. He likes to lick things and be a princess. And the calico is miss mocha, but we call her empress, cause she is the prissiest lifeform on the face of the earth.
Prompts: 1. “Your home is a wreck. You could’ve at least cleaned the bathroom.” “Had I known I was going to have guests at three o'clock in the morning, I’m sure I would’ve.” 2. "Oh my god. You’re in love with her.” 3. “Wow, can we pretend, for one second, that you’re not a complete douchebag?“ 4. "You gotta stop doing that.” “What?” “Saying things that make me wanna kiss you.” 5. “The problem is if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.” (talked about here x )
Warning: Cussing, some violence
A/N: Please tell me how this is. First time doing a Sherlock fic
With a groggy-voiced groan, you found yourself rolling out of bed, your throat dry and needing water. You just barely saw the time from your alarm clock. 3:00, great. You thought with another groan as you shuffled your way to your kitchen, getting yourself a cup of water. Just as you went to take a long-needed drink, you heard your toilet flush. Furrowing your eyebrows, you didn’t understand why a burglar would use the restroom but you didn’t question it. You set your glass down and quietly pulled out one of your cooking knives, making your way to your living room. You kept your eyes on the bathroom door as you stood in the darkest place you could. You watched as the door opened before you let out a soft sigh.
“Your home is a wreck. You could’ve at least cleaned the bathroom,” Sherlock Holmes, the world’s only consulting detective, stated as he followed you back into your kitchen.
“Had I known I was going to have guests at three o’clock in the morning, I’m sure I would’ve,” you muttered, placing the knife where it belonged. You picked up the glass of water and took that needed and forgotten drink. Setting the glass back down, you turned, leaning up against the counter as you crossed your arms. “What are you doing here, Holmes? If it wasn’t for the light in the damn bathroom, I would have hurt you.”
“I’m in need of some help.”
“Oh, really? The world’s only consulting detective asking me for help? Is this a dream?” You spoke sarcastically and Sherlock gave you a dull look. “What do you need help with?” You questioned, looking at him.
“I need some information that I can’t get.”
“And you expect me to get it for you? I believe I told you that I can’t keep doing that for you, Holmes.”
“That’s not the way I need you to get information.”
Your eyebrows rose at the statement, your hands dropping to your sides. He definitely got the curious side of you wondering what he could possibly mean.
“How are you wanting me to get the information you need?”
“John called it flirtation?”
“Flirting? You want me to flirt with whoever it is to get your information? Are you insane?” You stared at him before shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Holmes, but no.”
“Why not? I need that information!” Sherlock exclaimed.
“Holmes, keep it down,” you hissed. “Unlike you, my neighbors are not friendly.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do. Now, please, leave. It’s 3 in the morning and I have to work at 8.”
“When are you off?”
You sighed. You knew why he was asking when you were off. It was apparent that he was desperate for the information that he’d come to your work regardless of you tell him or not.
“I’m off at 4. Now, please, leave.” You watched as he gave you a curt nod before turning to leave. When you heard the front door close, you let out a sigh at the shining light of her bathroom. Damn Holmes, you thought as you stomped over to the bathroom, shutting off the light, finding yourself in complete darkness. Sighing softly to yourself, you made your way back to the bedroom, doubting that you’ll be able to go back to sleep.
Sherlock was a genius…when it came to everything but emotions. No matter how many times you told him that you couldn’t keep getting him information, being an office worker for MI6, you would no matter the question because of your feelings for the detective. You knew you shouldn’t have developed feelings for him. His brother – someone you worked with on occasion – had warned you the moment he deduced it and you had rolled your eyes – stating that you knew and you’d be fine – and you were.
You had never been one for relationships anyways – your job being the reason – so you knew it wouldn’t bother you. Well, it bothered you that he wanted you to flirt with someone for information. You’ve done so before, have the clothes for it even, but you didn’t like him asking you too because you wanted to be able to flirt with him.
Sitting on your bed, you let out a sigh once again before you glanced at the work you had fallen asleep doing. You crossed your legs, reaching forward to look at the paperwork that was so desperately begging to be finished.
Even though you’re an asshole 99% of the time, Holmes. I do have some things to thank you for.
“I need to change first, Holmes,” you stated as you walked out of your office building to see John and Sherlock standing by a cab. “I still can’t believe you’re having me flirt with some guy just to get you information.”
“Yes, well, it’s the only way it seems,” Sherlock stated as John opened the door.
“Hello, Y/N. Sorry to have suggested such a thing. I hadn’t realized that he would have gone to you,” John apologized and you gave him a smile.
“Yes, and I hadn’t realized that my flat isn’t Holmes proof. Seems to be something I need to fix.” You ducked into the cab with the two of them. “So, who is this guy and why am I flirting with him? I’m sure you could have easily asked someone else.”
“You are the only woman willing to help us,” Sherlock stated, “and his type seemed to be y/h/c with y/e/c and your body type.”
“Ah, yes, all comes down to types,” you muttered under your breath before looking out the window. “What time?”
“Tonight, of course.”
You nodded at the name, resting your chin on your palm with a soft sigh. You had brought an overnight bag, knowing you probably wouldn’t want to go back to your flat afterwards. It wasn’t unusual for you to stay at the flat for the night after helping them.
“Don’t even start. I know what I’m doing. It’s not the first time I’ve flirted with someone to get information. I do work for MI6, Holmes.” You glanced over at him before letting out a small huff. You had a feeling that he was going to doubt your abilities when it came to getting information but you did use to be a field agent for MI6 – lots of undercover work and still get the occasional mission to do another undercover personal – so you knew what you were doing. It frustrated you to no end that he would doubt your abilities for things when you worked for MI6, per-request of his brother. You had to be a genius on some level, even if it wasn’t on the same level as him.
“So, Y/N, what have you been up too?” John questioned and you turned your head to look at him, giving him a smile. “Anything new?”
“Not much and no, not really. Though, I’m debating on getting a cat. It’s been rather lonesome at the apartment recently,” you answered.
“Oh, really? What breed?”
“I’m thinking either a Sphynx, a British Shorthair, or a Singapura.” You glanced out the window as the cabbie came to a stop. Grabbing the bag out your feet, you got out, following the other two into 221B.
“Singapura?” John questioned and you nodded, giving him a smile. “What is that?”
“They have the body shape of a Sphynx but with fur and they actually are one of the smallest breeds of cats with large eyes and ears. I can pull up a picture if you’ll like?”
“Too busy,” Sherlock snapped and John raised his eyebrow at him before looking at you, giving you a small smile.
“So, what am I trying to get out of Myers?”
Sherlock scrunched his nose as he watched you let out a flirtatious laugh, slowly running your fingers down his arm. He was annoyed with himself that he went to you for this interaction. He should have just threatened the man to give them the information they need. A growl-like sound left his lips as he watched the man leaned forward, whispering something in your ear.
“Sherlock?” John questioned, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked towards the detective in question. “Are you alright?”
“Just fine,” Sherlock muttered under his breath as he turned his eyes away, taking a drink of the beer he had ordered for the night. He found his eyes glancing over at you, his hand tightening on the glass, and John’s eyes widened.
“Oh my god. You’re in love with her.” John stared at him as Sherlock turned his head back at him, giving him a scoff.
“Don’t be stupid. I don’t love.”
“You are what?” Your voice, soft and sweet, drifted into Sherlock’s ears and he sent John – who held a knowing smirk on his lips – a glare.
“Nothing,” Sherlock quickly answered as he stood, his eyes glancing over to Noah Myers who stared over at them. “Get everything we need?”
“He’s not your guy, Holmes,” You answered. “He doesn’t have the information you’re looking for. Sorry.”
“Obviously you didn’t do your job well enough,” Sherlock chimed and you narrowed your eyes at him with a scoff.
“You know what, Holmes? Fuck you.” You turned, walking towards the front doors of the bar he had dragged you too.
“Sherlock, that-you don’t say things like that!” John exclaimed but Sherlock ignored him, his eyes following you. “Sherlock!”
“We need to go. Now.” Sherlock didn’t wait for John’s response before he was hurrying out the door.
John threw his hands up with a huff of annoyance before he quickly followed Sherlock out the door with no idea what’s going on in his head.
You huffed as you made your way through the alleyway beside the bar. You didn’t want to have enough. You wanted to still be able to see Sherlock and give him the information he wants. You wanted him.
“Hey there, sweetheart, everything okay?” The man that Sherlock wanted information from, Noah Myers, was leaning against the brick wall, his head tilted to the side. “Saw you left your friends.”
“So I did,” you murmured, placing your hands on your hips as you looked at him. “May I help you?”
“That you can,” he purred and you scrunched up your nose at the sound.
“Sorry, but I’m not in the-“
A gasp left your lips as you found yourself up against the brick wall, a hand around your neck tight, close to cutting off airway. It left you unable to scream or even fight back as you tried to wrench his hand away from your throat.
“Let her go.” His voice gave you relief, your eyes shooting towards him as he stood a few feet away from the man, John standing beside him.
“Or what?” Myers tightened the hand on your throat and you shoved at his shoulder with one hand, clawing at his with the others.
“You don’t want to know.”
You began banging on his arm, trying desperately to breathe again. Sherlock was taking his time and you couldn’t tell him to hurry.
“Sherlock!” John exclaimed as you fought to keep your eyes open. Myers had just continued to tighten his hand on your throat the more you hit his arm. The last thing you remembered was seeing John grab the guy and feeling someone catch you before you hit the ground.
You groaned softly, turning to bury your head in the pillow before you stopped, taking in the scent of the room. It wasn’t your room and it wasn’t the room you would stay in when it came to staying in 221B. It smelled like Sherlock. Snapping your eyes open, you sat up quickly, looking around the room that you had only been in once or twice and that was because you would force Sherlock to rest after an attack.
Pushing the covers off of you, you paused, looking down to see that you had been changed into the nightwear that you had packed. Your cheeks flushed at the idea of John or Sherlock changing you. The outfit you were wearing didn’t quite allow you to wear a bra. Setting your feet on the floor, you walked over to the door, quietly opening it.
“Wow, can we pretend, for one second, that you’re not a complete douchebag?“ You heard John demand. “She cares for you, Sherlock. That’s why she’s always willing to do what you asked her, even against your brother’s orders and she works for him. She had done something for you, something that caused her to be in danger! I don’t care if she works for MI6 or not, Sherlock. You need to fix this and you need to tell her.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I don’t.” You finally made yourself known as you stepped into the room.
“How are you feeling, Y/N?” John asked, sending Sherlock a glare before giving you his full attention.
“Fine,” you answered, rubbing your forearm. “Uh, who changed me?” You asked and John nodded his head towards Sherlock who stood at his window, staring out of it.
“I didn’t see anything,” he stated and you nodded, glancing over at John who gave you a soft smile.
“I need to get back to Mary. Take care, will you? And there’ll be bruising on your neck for a few days,” he added and you nodded.
“Tell her a say hello?” John sent her a smile in response before making his way out of the flat. Your eyes glanced around, looking to be able to tell what time it is.
“It’s just barely midnight,” Sherlock stated and your eyes moved to him as you furrowed your eyebrows. You had figured that, if it was the morning, John had stayed the night here as well but that didn’t seem to be the case.
“Then why was I in your room? I usually sleep in John’s old room when I stay here,” you asked and Sherlock glanced your way but made no comment, which caused you to pout. You were tired and didn’t quite care how childish you looked.
"You gotta stop doing that,”Sherlock snapped and you blinked, staring at him as he turned to face you.
“What?” You questioned quietly as he turned to face you.
“Saying or doing things that make me wanna kiss you,” he exclaimed and you blinked again. “It’s a problem.”
You bit your lip at that statement. “How is it a problem?” You asked as you lifted your eyes to his as he took a few steps towards you.
“The problem is if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop,” he stressed, “and I-”
“I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” you cut him off quickly before he could go on and he stared at you. “You don’t have to stop?” You offered and the next thing you know, Sherlock was taking the last few steps to you, taking your face in his hands, and crashed his lips onto yours.
Your hands rested over his, gripping them softly as you reciprocated the kiss. You soon found your hands in his hair as his rested on your hips, pulling you close.
For the years you helped and worked with, you never thought that Sherlock had felt the same and you were fine with just being friends with him but here the two of you stood, lips locked. You just prayed this wasn’t some trick because you didn’t know if you could handle that.
You pulled apart when you were both panting for breath. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as yours opened, looking at him.
“Is this what John was referring too?” You asked carefully and softly as a chuckle passed his lips, his eyes opening to look at yours.
“How much did you hear of that?”
“He called you a douchebag.”
A soft laugh left his lips as he closed his eyes again and you watched him. You opened your mouth to say something but your phone going off cut you off.
“My brother has been calling you.”
“Shit.” You pulled away and went to your phone, picking it up and putting it to your ear. “Y/L/N.”
“I’ve been calling you for the last hour, Y/L/N. I need you to do some undercover work.”
You scrunched up your nose at the order, a sigh leaving your lips.
“Very well, sir. I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”
“You’re with my brother,” he concluded and you pursed your lips at the statement.
“I’ll be there first thing in the morning,” you repeated before hanging up, looking at Sherlock. “You do realize he is my boss and I do want to keep my job.”
Sherlock gave you a grin before he was grabbing your waist, pulling you to him, placing a kiss on your lips and you sighed breathlessly against his lips.
Requested—by none other than the fabulous, the lovely @casownsmyass(Chloe) so thank her for this.
Nodding to each other Daryl and Michonne split up without a
sound. She headed towards the three-story Victorian and while he went for the
one next door—a small one story house painted an almost sky blue with white
trim. There were even some wilting daffodils out front. They a little brown but
still stubbornly blooming and obviously alive even after all this time. Ignoring the inviting front porch and front
door, Daryl drew out his crossbow and cautiously started on his way around to
the back of the house. Stopping at every
corner and glancing around it (bow first) to make sure it was clear Daryl made
it to the backyard. Spotting a garden
slightly overgrown and wilted from neglect he made a detour and walked over to
see if there was anything good.